


Baker Street Banging

by da_petty



Series: All The World's A Stage [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 20:11:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14088747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/da_petty/pseuds/da_petty
Summary: Sherlock hasn't had any work for the past 10 days and is getting antsy. He'd take anything at this point.Be careful what you wish for...





	Baker Street Banging

**Author's Note:**

> All The World's A Stage is a compilation of different fan fic scenarios that John and Sherlock have to act out. In this AU, the fics ARE the 'cases' that Sherlock and John must recreate to have it deemed 'closed'.
> 
>  
> 
> * John and Sherlock are very aware that they're acting out someone's fantasies and provide a running commentary about the current script and their opinions of it. Sherlock is more vocal than John who tends to go with the flow.

John and Sherlock sat by the fire, reading and sipping tea. They’d spent the past hour in peaceful silence, a rare and wondrous occurrence that wasn’t bound to last.

“John.” Sherlock said.

“Yes?” John said, peering over the top of the paper.

“Bored.”

“You’re always bored.”

“Aren’t you bored? We haven’t received anything interesting in a month.”

“Ten days.” John said, carefully folding his paper and laying it on the end table beside him. He’d learned long ago that when Sherlock wanted to talk to him, there was no sense trying to accomplish anything until he was done. The amount of time that could take was unpredictable so John just surrendered immediately, hoping that it wouldn’t take as long as the last time. Of course, the ‘last time’ was always longer than the time before, but John never gave up hope. 

“Minor detail.” Sherlock said dismissively.

“I’m sure that something will come through any day now.” John said, hoping that was the case. Right now, though, it was a matter of patience and he was quickly losing his.

“What could possibly be taking so long? There must be someone with an imagination out there!” 

“Maybe they’ve been busy.”

“With what?”

“Life?” John shrugged.

“Life?! What about our lives? Are we supposed to just sit around, twiddling our thumbs, waiting for someone to actually write something?”

“You hated the last one.”

“I’d settle for something like that right about now just to have something to do!”

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. John waited for a minute to see if Sherlock would get it, what with him being so bored and all. John stared at Sherlock and and then looked at the door. Sherlock just sat there, doing the usual; nothing.

“You’ve had your arse glued to that chair for the past ten days, you’d think that the potential of that being work would get you moving.”

“You’re wasting time, John.” Sherlock said placidly. 

“I’ll just go get that then, shall I?” John heaved himself out of his chair and with one last exasperated look at Sherlock, turned and made a great show of annoyance by landing heavy footfalls on the way to the door.

“You’re being childish, John.” Said the ever implacable Sherlock Holmes.

John turned, index finger raised, mouth opened to tell him to bugger off when the knocking started again. This time, sounding impatient.

John turned back and opened the door whereupon a heavy envelope was thrust into his hands so abruptly that he didn’t even have a chance to say anything to the man who'd delivered it.

“Well. That was just rude.” John said to the quickly retreating back. 

“Who cares! What is it?” Sherlock said from over John’s left shoulder.

“For fuck’s sake! I hate when you do that! I swear, one of these days I’m going to put a bell on you!”

John looked at the envelope. It was one of those interoffice, manilla envelopes with multiple ‘Sender’ and ‘Receiver’ lines for people to fill in as it was passed along. It even had the old school thread that you twined around paper buttons to keep the envelope closed. John couldn’t believe that these were still in use after all of these years.

“I can’t believe that these are still in use after all of these years.” Sherlock said.

“I was just thinking...HEY!” Sherlock snatched the envelope from John and was already removing the string.

“You’re too slow and my patience is at an end, John.”

“You don’t have any patience.” John said.

“Well then knowing that, you should have been able to predict that I was going to take that envelope from you. Ooh! ‘Confidential’! My favorite kind!”

John watched as Sherlock took a large stack of papers out of the envelope and began leafing through them. After a cursory glance at everything, he handed the packet wordlessly back to John.

“What? What is it? Lost dog? Moriarty is a bad man - again? Oh. Wait. There are two individual packets in here.” John said, looking up at Sherlock.

“Yes, John. I’m aware of that.”

“Why are you acting so weird then? Let’s just pick one to do first and we’ll do the other one later.”

“Have you read past the titles yet? There are synopsis’.”

“There usually are. Let’s see what we have...” John separated the two packs and looked at the title page with the synopsis and began reading aloud.

‘Baker Street Banging’

“The title could be misleading.” John said.

“It’s not. Read on.”

‘John comes home early and catches Sherlock in the midst of masturbating. This causes John to go gay instantly upon seeing him naked. John proceeds to fuck Sherlock aggressively.’ 

“'Go gay'? Really? Who says that? And how do you ‘go gay’?” John asked.

“I have absolutely no idea but they sound very enlightened.” Sherlock said sarcastically. 

“Haven’t fucked you ‘aggressively’ in awhile. Nice change of pace.”

“While it’s nice to have a break from the sugary sweetness of the romance plot lines, I would like to top for once. This is the sixth time in a row that I've had to suck your cock first and then you get to have your way with me. How about you suck MY cock for a change? And I’d definitely like a chance at your arse. This is so unfair.” Sherlock complained.

“Sherlock, I don’t write these. We just follow the plot.”

“Just...move on to the next one. Maybe you can explain it to me because it doesn’t make any sense.”

“Doesn’t make any sense to YOU, you mean.” John said.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Just read the next one.” 

“Ok. Oh. This is very interesting.”

“And how is that silly premise interesting?”

John gave Sherlock a look of astonishment.

“You don’t get it? Really?”

Sherlock just looked at John and let out an exasperated breath.

“Right. Onto the title and summary.”

’SIMpathy For The Devil’

‘John and Sherlock get trapped in SIMCity Social and have to figure out how to play the game so that they can get out. Once they’ve done that, they open the front door to leave and find themselves in GTA. Hilarity ensues.’

“Oh my god! That sounds fabulous! Let’s do that first!’ John said excitedly.

“I have no idea what the hell that one is about.”

“SIM City is a game where you build a city and create simulated (SIMs) people whose goal is to make a bigger, better city while accumulating experience points for your SIMs. You socialize with other SIMs, go to work, pick up items, etc. There’s more to it but it’d be easier to show you than tell you about it. This is a really old game too. It used to be on Facebook but they discontinued it years ago. I guess that the author was feeling nostalgic. And possibly has some anger issues that they need to work out as well.” John finished.

“I get to create and manipulate people? Hmm...” Sherlock began thinking of all the things that he could make people do HIS way, which was the RIGHT way. And how satisfying would that be? Sherlock’s lips turned up in a Cheshire Cat grin.

“Yes, you do but they don’t always do what you tell them to...” John began.

Sherlock waved him off. “If they’re MY SIMs, they’ll do what I tell them or suffer the consequences.” Sherlock paused for a moment. “What are the consequences?”

“The characters will lose friends...”

“Friends are pointless anyhow. Good riddance.” The more Sherlock heard, the more he wanted to act out this one. He'd already started plotting.

“You have to have friends, Sherlock. If you don’t, your character’s score will drop. The dishes pile up in the sink. No one will talk to them.”

“No one will talk to the dishes? That's absurd." "You know very well what I meant by that," John said, glaring at Sherlock which was, as usual, ignored. "Can I make a new character in the game while I’m playing?” Sherlock asked.

“Well, yes, you can but that’s not the point of the game. You have to build your characters up to succeed. Plus, since it’s on FaceBook, any of our, sorry, any of MY friends that used to play can participate in our world. I’m pretty sure that Molly, Lestrade, Anderson, and Donovan were players.”

“That’s intriguing. Can I make bad things happen to them?” Sherlock asked with just a little too much excitement, John thought.

“No idea. I never actually played. I just remembered Molly talking about it. It’s a good way to kill time whilst waiting for someone to write fan fiction for us to act out, though.”

“My time is very valuable, John. You know that. I don’t have time for games.” Sherlock said, then paused. “But, since we have to act it out anyhow, I acknowledge that it could be fun.”

John could still see the excitement simmering just beneath the feigned nonchalance. John was going to kick Sherlock’s arse in this fic and he couldn’t wait!

“So, what does the acronym ‘GTA’, stand for?” Sherlock asked.

“Ah. 'Grand Theft Auto.' That’s a fun game too where you manipulate characters in a criminal environment. You commit crimes, steal cars by throwing people out of them and driving away... You know what, let’s save the instructions for later on that one too. I’ll show you how to play when we get there.”

“Let’s do that one first! The last six fics have been porn. Just porn. Pages and pages of porn. My arse is killing me! This is something that I might enjoy for a change as well as avoiding sitting on a donut for the next week.” 

“Come on, now. You know that you enjoy the porn.” 

“Yes. Fine. I DO enjoy it but I need a break. Unless...you would allow me to fuck YOU for a change.” Sherlock said, with a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Sorry. No can do. It's not in the fic. Let’s just act out these two new fics and then you can bang me until I’m blue. Deal?”

“Deal!”

“Oh.” John said, looking at a heretofore overlooked note on the top of the pile.

“Oh? Oh what?” Sherlock asked with dread.

“Per Mycroft, we have to perform ‘Baker Street Banging’ first. John said, trying but failing to hide his grin.

“Fucking Mycroft! Let me see that!” Sherlock said, ripping the documents out of John’s hands.

“...very high up in the government. Her fan fiction must be performed first. The Empire depends upon it.”

“Oh. COME ON! The Empire depends on porn?!” Sherlock exclaimed.

“Well, it does seem to be the national pastime in politics. Much safer to enjoy it vicariously. Unless it's kinky and your constituents find out about it.” John turned and headed towards their, formerly Sherlock’s, bedroom.

“Where are you going?” Sherlock asked.

“To put all of the toys out and get the industrial sized bottle of lube. The way that story reads, before all is said and done, we might have to run out and buy more.” John had turned to look at Sherlock, then resumed his trip to the bedroom with what Sherlock considered, unseemly haste. He was calling Sherlock impatiently, within seconds.

“You usually don’t run that fast unless you’re chasing down a criminal, gun in hand.” Sherlock said, sotto voce.

“I heard that! Now, get in here and assume the position so that I can fuck the living daylights out of you!”

“Fuck me!” Sherlock whispered.

“I intend to!”

Sherlock sighed and headed towards their bedroom. He could swear that his arse had already begun to hurt. 

“Fucking horny women.”

“Sherlock!” John yelled.

“Just wait a minute! I’m coming!” Sherlock said petulantly.

“Not yet, but you will be!” 

Sherlock rolled his eyes. He didn’t believe in god but he found himself praying that John wouldn’t be able to find the ridiculously large purple dildo. Sherlock really hated that one and so he’d hidden it where John couldn’t possibly find it.

“Hey! Why was the purple dildo under the mattress?” John asked.

“Oh. God dammit!” Sherlock replied. Shoulder’s slumping and dragging his feet, he walked to his bedroom begrudgingly. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear that John was writing these things himself.

“We who are about to die, salute you.” 

“Stop being such a drama queen and get your arse in here.” John said.

The sound of something heavy landing on the nightstand startled Sherlock. He guessed that that was probably the giant bottle of lube. It was so big that it actually had a pump! With a feeling of someone heading to their own execution, he went into the bedroom, shut the door and assumed the position.


End file.
